


One Step at a Time

by smolchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Winchesters, M/M, Season 11 Finale Canon Divergent, Tooth Rotting Fluff, music centric, pre season 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 12:09:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7714402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolchester/pseuds/smolchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Now do you believe in rock and roll?<br/>Can music save your mortal soul?<br/>And can you teach me how to dance real slow?”</p><p>The Golden Age of the Winchesters was longer lived than any times of peace that had preceded it. Days and months passed without threat. Sam and Dean had stopped going on small hunts for the first time in ages. That antsy feeling that would build in Dean's bones when he had to do something didn’t return. Sam began to read for pleasure rather than necessity. But the biggest change was the music that constantly filled the halls of their home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Step at a Time

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank gabrielseductivetrickster aka gabedrawz on tumblr for making some super rad fanart to go along with this fic for the DeanCas 2016 Summer Mini Bang as seen here http://gabedrawz.tumblr.com/post/148665361244/for-the-deancassummerminibang-the-lovely
> 
> And also thisissoeffingbeautiful on tumblr for beta-ing my very first fic and being so encouraging along the way.

The Winchesters are living in their very own Golden Age, a period of happiness and calm before the next inevitable storm. However, what makes this time different is the unprecedented resurrection of their long dead mother.

Mary Winchester, whose death got the Winchester men to dabble with what goes bump in the night, has simply come back to life after over thirty years. By the grace of God himself and his sister, Mary has a second chance at life - and three decades to make up for in time.

This is where the story picks up. Mary, confused as all hell, was brought back to their bunker home in Lebanon, Kansas. They were greeted by a baffled Sam and Castiel. As Sam hugged Dean, tighter than he ever had within memory, Cas looked to the far corner of the room, head cocked. It took Sam a moment to notice the mother he never really got to know standing in the doorway in her 80’s esque nightgown, hand over her heart and teary eyed herself. When he did, his heart nearly stopped.

* * * * * * * * * * *

The Golden Age of the Winchesters was longer lived than any times of peace that had preceded it. Days and months passed without threat. Sam and Dean had stopped going on small hunts for the first time in ages. That antsy feeling that would build in Dean's bones when he had to do something didn’t return. Sam began to read for pleasure rather than necessity. But the biggest change was the music that constantly filled the halls of their home.

Mary had abruptly left the 20th century just to be pulled back into the 21st. Even after several months of acclimating, many things in modern life still confounded her. The only constant she could find was her children’s affinity for “her” music, music from the time she was alive. So Sam, Dean, and Cas indulged Mary in playing their records and cassettes constantly, a background soundtrack to their time of bliss.

One mid August day, Dean wakes up earlier than usual to attempt to make his family breakfast. Dean places his small handheld cassette player on a shelf and presses the play button. The soundtrack to his endeavor this morning is the upbeat “Sweet Caroline”. The loud clinking of a pan and the noise of getting out a cutting board, catches Castiel’s attention from down the hall. Curious, he groggily makes his way to the kitchen to see what the noise is. However, upon reaching the kitchen he stops short in the doorway and just stands there, leaning against the frame.

Dean is dancing. Actually dancing.

Sure, he had allowed himself in recent months to sing along to some songs and tap his foot if he was feeling extremely adventurous, but it had been years since Dean had let himself go. Cas smiles a crinkly smile at the sight. As Dean starts cracking eggs into a pan on the stove the chorus begins to build.

 _Hands, touchin' hands_  
_Reachin' out, touchin' me, touchin' you_

His hips sway and just as he hits the line _Reachin’ Out_ his empty hand shoots out just to twist as he smoothly pulls it back to the music. Its an oddly delicate sight.

A small hand touches Cas’ tee shirt clad shoulder and he jumps a little. Standing behind him, beaming, is Mary in her newly updated sleepwear. The two of them stand there silently as they look on to an oblivious Dean fast at work. The chorus comes around again and Dean shakes the salt onto the freshly cooked eggs to the beat of the ba ba ba’s. His whole body sways to the tune and you can almost picture the blissful grin on his face. He’s relaxed. Happy.

“Dean’s grown up to be a pretty smooth dancer.” Mary whispers just loud enough for Cas to hear with the music playing. He nods his head, eyes unwavering from the performance in front of them.

“He does that on his own. Sam and I aren’t much into dancing.”

Mary lets out a soft hum and moves to prop her chin on his shoulder, looking from Dean and back to Cas. “You should ask him to teach you.” She proposes nonchalantly.

This time Cas adverts his eyes to look at her. “Teach me?”

“It would be fun.” she shrugs. “An old dog like yourself could stand to learn some new tricks.”

Cas takes a moment to think. Yes, he is millenia old and not once has he taken the opportunity to appreciate music in this way. He hasn't been afforded the luxury. Even now, after all the years of his existence, it takes the Righteous Man’s resurrected mother to even get him to dwell on the idea. With her return Cas feels that he owes her the utmost respect. The fallen angel had experienced many things - the most human of them being with the Winchesters. What would be the harm in indulging Mary by having Dean teach him to dance?

* * * * * * * * * *

That is exactly what Cas does.

Later on in the day he approaches Dean in the Bunker’s library as he starts to reset a game of “beer bowling”. His stuff is sprawled out on the table, per usual. As Cas comes around the corner his voice catches Dean off guard.

“Dean.” Cas says, toying between a question, statement, and greeting. Dean’s surprise is subtle - a slight flinch - but enough to be seemingly out of character for a seasoned hunter.

“Shit, man - gotta warn a guy. You need something?” Dean says, recovering from being startled. He sets a bottle to the side and goes to lean against the table. There are still a couple bottles scattered around. By the looks of it, he had a pretty good round.

“I, uh, want to learn how to dance.” Cas manages to get out, feeling slightly awkward. Why should he feel uncomfortable? What he’s asking is harmless, at least to him. Perhaps it's the gnawing realization that Dean may think it's peculiar. He has learned that in 21st century Midwestern American culture it is almost taboo for men to dance together, even for educational purposes.

He’s overthinking. Stop it.

“Like ballroom dancing or what?”

Cas thinks for a moment. The actual type of dancing never came up when Mary suggested that Dean teach him. To him, it was just dancing.

“I hadn’t thought that through.” Cas admits. “I just want to learn how to appreciate music more fully since you and Sam have it playing constantly now. Seems enjoyable to be able to move your body and limbs to a rhythm and beat in an aesthetically pleasing way.”

Dean almost rolls his eyes at how scientific Cas is making dancing out to be. To him its simple: you move to the beat and it just goes from there.

“Why don’t you ask my mom? This sounds like a mom thing to do.”

“I’ve only personally known your mother for a short while - we’ve known each other for years. I feel most comfortable in your company.”

Dean shifts where he stands. He’s debating compromising his machismo, or so Cas guesses. Castiel can’t read minds but the skill currently topping the list of things he most wants in this existence. Dean interrupts his thought, looking toward the high ceilings of the library.

“Fine.” He says, resigned. “But we sure as hell ain’t gonna put on a show here. Later tonight, my room.”

Cas nods his head. Its an odd proposition but he’ll take it. Both propositions are odd, to be honest.

“I’m doing you a solid.” Dean continues. “Don’t mention it to Mom or Sam.”

“You have my word Dean.” Cas nods again, solidifying the agreement. Even though the idea was Mary’s suggestion, he would never compromise Dean’s trust.

Dean smiles and sets another beer bottle onto the table. “Good. Now how about a round of bowling?”

* * * * * * * * *

Castiel makes it to Dean’s room shortly after 11pm. Sam is still sitting in the library on his laptop and last Cas saw Mary was headed to her own room just down the hall. Dean “went to bed”, or so he told his mother and brother, nearly an hour ago, much to their surprise. He had mentioned something about catching up on some magazines, and nobody pushed the subject further.

Cas is sure to knock on the door, not knowing exactly what Dean is doing behind it. Dean opens it quietly, peeks his head out and scans the hallway before ushering Cas in like a couple of teenagers running a secret club. In haste, the door doesn't click shut and lies cracked ever so slightly open.

In Dean’s room there is clearly no evidence of raunchy magazine reading, but rather his ipod, a cassette player and cassettes scattered on the bed. The player has a tape in it with an almost illegible title, sharpie smudged with time.

“I don’t know what kind of lessons you want but I found a pretty good song that you can dance a few different ways to.” Dean says, almost rushed. He reaches for the cassette player.

“This is ‘American Pie’, a classic. You can dance slower to it or real fast so we can get a little diversity in here for you.” He continues, turning the cassette player over in his hands. It’s evident that he put a lot of thought into this meeting he was hesitant to even do at first. Cas tries to think of a word to describe it and endearing comes to mind.

“Thank you Dean.” He says. “Where do we go from here?”  
  
Dean shrugs. Looking Cas up and down he gets an idea.

“Get that bulky as hell trench coat off. You can’t move with that on. Then I guess we start the song.”

As Cas disrobes, Dean goes and places the cassette player on his dresser. He presses a button and it whirls to life with a click. The lyrics start up right away but Dean takes the slow intro to walk back to Cas and get situated.

“Just kind of mirror what I do to start.” he begins. Dean moves his shoulders and then his body back and forth slowly, side to side. Cas begins to do the same.

“This is an awfully sad sounding song.”

“Shhh. It's good. Trust me.”

Cas senses that there’s an awkwardness to the situation. Standing a little over two feet apart, the sight of two grown men moving side to side and barely making eye contact must be quite odd. Of course while Dean’s eyes dart around the room Castiel’s stay fixated on him and how he moves.  
  
The chorus comes around and Cas starts to hear Dean humming the tune. “American Pie”, up to this point seems to be a ballad of tragedy. He wonders why Dean picked this particular song, other than its “variety”.

His train of thought is interrupted as the chorus ends and the pace picks up with an acoustic guitar. Dean smiles and gestures to him to keep up.

“And do you have faith in God above,” Dean sings, barely audible. He pauses mid shift and points to Cas, leaning to the side. “If the Bible tells you so?”

Finally, Castiel relaxes and gives Dean a rare toothy grin. Their recent brush with God makes the lyrics almost comical. Dean reaches out, hand extended yet hesitant. Cas looks from the hand to him and Dean gives a shrug.

_Can you teach me how to dance real slow?_

Cas takes Dean’s hand and as soon as he does, Dean grabs the other. He moves their arms back and forth in addition to their bodies swaying. It's a gradual build. Dean’s eyes lock with Castiel’s and they both give each other large grins.

Cas notices the wrinkles by Dean's eyes as he smiles.

 _Well, I know that you're in love with him_  
_'Cause I saw you dancin' in the gym_  
You both kicked off your shoes  
Man, I dig those rhythm and blues

The song is nearly nine minutes long and while it’s plenty of time to get some good dancing in, it doesn’t seem nearly long enough. Cas doesn’t know any of the lyrics but Dean fills his silence with bits and pieces of the song, both on key and comedically off key. As the song progresses with its upbeat tempo the pair gets more adventurous. Dean eventually gets Cas to twirl and swing from extended arms into himself… and vice versa. As Dean comes to figure out, his Castiel is a quick learner.

For a secret lesson, the pair is awfully loud. Laughs and mediocre sing alongs echo from the room. Mary never quite made it to her room, suspecting what was happening down the hall. She peers through the cracked door and listens with a smile on her face.

Eventually Sam catches on as well. As he stops on his way to his own room to see what the commotion is about, Mary ushers him away.

“I won’t be here long. He’s so happy - let me enjoy this.”

Sam drops his gaze to the ground and chuckles. He gives his mother a quick peck on the cheek and continues down the hallway, laptop in hand.

Back inside his room, as if it were ingrained in his memory, Dean slows down to catch his breath just as the song prepares to slow down itself.

“Okay Cas,” He says loud enough to just be heard with the music. “It's gonna get to a slow part.”

He lifts Cas’ hands to his shoulders. “Put your hands right here and,” He pauses briefly, eyes flickering down Cas’ torso and then back up. “If it's okay, I will put my hands on your waist.”

Cas nods, and Dean tentatively puts his hands on either side of Cas’s button up clad torso. Dean’s touch is light but Cas seems to stiffen under the unusually close contact. He looks down at him and breathes deep, a gesture suggesting Cas do the same. Castiel breathes in and out, releasing the tension. Dean is comfortable so Cas has nothing to worry about. This slow portion of the song has them swaying together to the lyrics.

_And the three men I admire most_  
_The Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost  
They caught the last train for the coast_

Cas chuckles lightly to himself. The song very much suited them. Upbeat and jovial at times with more serious undertones. It is very peculiar how certain lines about God seem to speak to exactly how they felt until recently. He wonders how many times Dean has listened to the song, hauled up in his room or the Impala for one reason or another. He begins to stare off into space. Dean watches him, examining him. They move effortlessly now, without much thought into it.

“You know Cas, I think you’re a filthy liar for saying you didn’t know how to do this.”

Cas looks back at him and shrugs slightly. “They do say dance is one of the best forms of praise, so perhaps it's in Angels’ programming.”

“Well I’m glad you asked me. You’re a weird little guy but you’re the best friend I’ve ever had outside of Sammy.” Dean pulls Cas in for a hug, untangling their arms and readjusting them to make up for the slight height difference.

They stand there like that for a while.

As they hug Cas buries his face into Dean's shoulder, breathing him in. He smells of home. He lifts his face from Dean’s tee shirt clad shoulder and looks back up at him. Their faces are not even five inches apart by now.

Dean leans down further and their noses touch. Cas can no longer hear the last chorus of the song, sung by what seems to be a choir of lost people. His heartbeat is ringing in his ears for the first time in his existence.

Dean closes in the gap between them ever so slowly. Their lips meet briefly, but it feels like a millennium. The kiss is soft and tender, brief yet somehow conveys a passion built up for years. As Dean pulls away he scans Cas’ eyes for some sort of outward emotion because best friends sure as hell don’t do that.

Cas grins and leans his forehead forward. Dean places a kiss to his hairline and presses his own forehead to Cas’. They stand there, slightly moving to the music, silent and close.

The song comes to an end and with another click it restarts the slow introduction. Mary begins to back out of the doorway and slowly shuts the door behind her to give her son the privacy he so deserves.


End file.
